


Fire and Ice

by ObsidianButterfly



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Anal, F/M, Fingering, Het, Oral, dp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:24:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianButterfly/pseuds/ObsidianButterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haytham and Connor entertain you as the reader in an attempt to prove who is the most skilful in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire and Ice

You are not entirely sure how this got started, who made an invitation or even who made the first move but right at this moment you don’t particularly care. A small voice in the back of your mind is yelling at you, waiting to pronounce you slut or whore but that is quickly silenced by the delicious sensations trailing down your body.

The bedroom you are currently standing in is in twilight, shadows playing across the walls and the air around you is hot and close. Your hormone induced brain is not sure if the heat is from the growing excitement of your bodies or the humid evening air.

You expected it to feel odd or unusual, it does. However ‘odd’ is speedily giving way to amazing erotic as two different sets of hands caress your body. You feel small, trapped, but in an entirely pleasant way; surrounded by walls of hot skin and muscle.

The firm line of Connor’s body is pressed against the front of you; he is shirtless allowing your hands to wander the smooth, hard, expanse of tanned chest. You watched him greedily as he sauntered over to you earlier to fold his arms around you, unselfconscious in his state of undress, muscles bunching under perfect coffee coloured skin.

His trousers are still on, for the moment, but his feet are bare, still Connor towers over you. He leans forward cradling your face in both his hands, hair braiding tickling along your cheek. His kisses are soft and delicate, ghostly playing over your lips.

You would happily rub yourself against that wonderful body, that is, if you could move. The equally firm line of Haytham Keyway’s body is pressed tightly into the back of you, his hands slowly circling your hip distractedly as he places warm playful kisses on your neck and along your shoulder. Unlike Connor, he is still fully clothed. You can feel the sharp buttons of his jacket dig into your back slightly and the much sharper prod of an erection against your arse. You shiver at the implication.

A deep voice caresses your ears; Haytham’s lips brush your earlobe, ‘well, how are you finding this so far my dear? I believe it was you who issued the challenge?’

Challenge? What challenge? You don’t remember issuing any challenge. You were only, innocently, or perhaps not so innocently, wondering who was better in bed.

Connor pulls back briefly, a small smirk playing along those full, sensuous lips. He is clearly amused by Haytham’s teasing manner and your reaction.

‘Ugh,’ is your only, highly undignified, reply, your vocabulary seems to have taken a holiday as Haytham’s lips move back towards your neck and the deep musky pine scent of Connor assaults your senses.

A small bite at your neck causes you to moan against the younger Kenway’s mouth, he uses this as an invitation to slid his tongue against yours starting a slow, rhythmic dance. His fingers are slightly calloused but still oh so soft and gentle as he strokes your face, which is almost lost completely in his larger, male hands. 

Connor moves his hands away but his mouth continues its delicious torture. Fingers caress you, skating delicately over your body until you do not know whose hands belong to who as they trail their way across your breasts, stomach and thighs. Even through your clothing the touch is electric and is beginning to create a warm pooling between your legs.

Haytham moves to the other side of your neck, burying his nose just behind your ear and you can’t help but giggle as he exhales, blowing warm air across a sensitive spot. You can feel him smile against the crook of your neck at your reaction as he switches to caress your neck with his tongue.

You are pulled tighter against his body, one arm circling your waist. He teases mercilessly with his other hand, rubbing back and forth along the very bottom of your stomach. Gloriously firm, large hands stimulate already heated flesh, you didn’t think your arousal could up a notch but you whimper an ‘oh god’ as fingers walking enticingly across your skin.

Connor pulls back millimetres, just far enough for the Grandmaster to sneak a hand down between your body and his, covering your groin. Haytham’s fingers begin rubbing you through your clothing, layers of fabric not enough to stop you responding from his expert touch.

Fingers tease along you; you try to subtly widen your legs allowing easier access to the probing digits. He is not fooled, chuckling against your neck the Grandmaster slides one finger into your underwear, brushing gently through your folds and causing you to moan as he begins stroking your clit. Circling the hard nub with ever increasing pressure, he knows you are becoming wetter with his ministrations, any embarrassment at your current situation, long since lost.

You can feel a tingling low in your abdomen, your legs are becoming a little unsteady and you think it is just as well that both these strong bodies are holding you up. You are becoming dizzy from the lack of oxygen as Connor seems unwilling to let go of your lips anytime soon while a second pair of lips are causing wonderful vibrations at the back of your neck, travelling all the way down your spine.

Haytham’s fingers work their magic, dipping lower to your entrance he slips them inside of you gently, ever so slightly, before pulling back. He is using your own wetness to spread across your clit, fingers slipping easily and eagerly over you and soon your body is tightening, inner muscles quivering as he brings you to orgasm.

Connor steps back, releasing your mouth and you can only pant heavily, cheeks flushed; you can feel beads of sweat trailing your spin. Haytham has one big arm still wrapped around your waist but he extracts his fingers from your body and extends his hand out in front of him. You lick your lips, fascinatedly watching, as Connor sucks them, rolling his father’s fingers around his mouth with his tongue and lapping the wetness of your arousal from them.

You can’t help a small whimper leave your lips at the incredibly erotic sight of Connor sucking your come from the tip of his father’s fingers. He releases them before capturing your lips again and you can taste a mixture of yourself and both men in the exchange.

An unexpected draught causes a shiver down your spine and you realise the hard line of Haytham’s body is no longer tightly pressed into your back. Connor’s hands push at your hips turning you in his embrace as you glance further into the room. His bare chest rubs along your back, cheek rubbing against your hair in an oddly comforting gesture, much like a cat marking its territory. 

You now see where the Grandmaster has gone. He is carefully extracting his own clothing. Haytham takes a long, slow time to deftly un-flick each button of his lengthy navy coat, peeling it off slowly, before neatly folding it across a chair. His scarf is loosened exposing a pale slender expanse of neck. The scarf quickly follows the coat as he begins his attack on the buttons of his deep crimson waistcoat.

Eagerly you watch the slow striptease of his body, enveloped in the warmth of Connor behind you; you have all the time to stare at the delicious physique in front of you.

Silently you marvel at the differences in both men. Where Connor is all tanned muscle and rugged nativeness, his father has broader shoulders but is taller and leaner. Connor is slightly hesitant, almost shy and unsure but the man stripping before you gives the impression he could fuck you into oblivion and that you will only too readily die happy. The chest revealed is pale and crisscrossed with small pinkish scars, you long to reach out and run your tongue along each and every one of them.

Your daydreaming comparison of the figures before you is interrupted, not so subtly, by Conner rubbing the obvious erection into your back breathing in your ear, ‘you enjoy watching him?’

You can only nod in response, you notice that Haytham has now diverse himself of all clothing except his trousers. The garment is slightly open and your gaze travels across the slightly defined chest, down the fine hairs across his stomach to the dark patch sneaking around his navel and vanishing into those pants. He saunters back towards you with his usually smug and satisfied smirk.

Haytham leans over you reaching down for a kiss. His lips are rougher, a slight scrape of stubble across your skin as his kisses are more insistent and demanding than those earlier. He distracts you with his mouth, lost in the taste of tea and tobacco you barely notice Connor removing your clothing.

Fingers lightly stroke your skin, trailing across your back in small delicate circles as he exposes more and more of you. You can feel Connor’s hot breath blow across the very base of your spin as he kneels on the floor, supporting you, as you shuffle out the last of your clothing, kicking it across the floor. He nips playfully at the cheek of your arse with his teeth before standing back up.

Hands on your hips delicately push you forwards into Haytham. The Grandmaster shuffles backwards, pulling you and Connor along with him towards the bed. His knees hit the edge of the bed and he scoots backwards on it as you crawl on all fours on top. Somewhere behind you, you are aware of Connor’s warm body still pressed against yours, the beds shifts under the extra weight as he too kneels on the soft matters.

Haytham pulls you down for a kiss, tongue running along your lips before sliding into you, his hands wandering now naked skin. You thought his touch had been deliciously electric previously but now without clothing, firm hands, worn from years of sword practice skim the surface of your body, drawing goosebumps as they go.

You reach your hands out to balance against his chest, fingers exploring the softness of his skin, sliding further down to rest on his hips. A small sigh escapes him at your touch, his eyes flutter closed and his head eases back to the bed as you caress him, you enjoy that you are giving him pleasure and that he is just as eager for you as you are for him. 

Behind you, Connor attempts to distract you from your exploration of Haytham’s body by trailing a line of warm, wet kisses from the base of your neck down your spin. 

You shudder, involuntary, when you feel Connor press himself back against your arse. You haven’t been paying attention; there has been too much to explore, too much to look at. You can feel the hard silken rub of Connors erection against the bare skin of your backside, the small trail of sticky pre-come across your skin and realise that at some point he has diverse himself of the last of his clothing. He angles his hips, sliding his hard cock between your legs, rubbing back and forth through your folds, never quite taking the last move to penetrate.

Under you Haytham bucks his hips upwards, brushing the front of his clothed groin against your already over sensitised clit. Squirming at the sensation, you rotate your hips, delighting in the feel of both of them pressed tightly against you, massaging back and forward along your skin. 

Their breathing is heavy; Haytham’s face a mask of concentration underneath you as his hands massage your breasts, rolling a hard nipple between his fingers. Connors breath his hot against the back of your neck, a deep growl is emanating from low in his throat as he slides against you. You can feel the deep rumble from the chest currently pressed into your back and the animalistic sound tightens thing low in your body.

Suddenly, without warning, Connor has shifted position. His hips thrust forward burying himself into your wet but tight body. You still and cry out, your breath catching in your throat at the sudden invasion. The thickness of him stretches you and you writhe as he draws his cock slowly out before pushing all the way back with force. You shriek in pleasure, furiously fisting the bedding below.

You can see Haytham under you, he has a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he rolls them mockingly before commenting in his wonderfully crisp accent; ‘The boy has no patience.’ 

You really don’t think this is the time to be criticising his technique as his cock is massaging your inner walls, fingertips gripping your hips to angle you just so for his bruising thrusts.

Haytham’s wet lips give you a brief chaste kiss as he scoots out from under you. Easing himself back across the bed, he props himself up against the pillows. You can only watch him from your position on all fours, Connor thundering between your legs as the older Kenway hooks long, elegant fingers into the waistband of his breeches and tugs downward.

Licking your lips at the glorious sight of him now completely nude, he reclines before you, legs slightly parted, his cock hard and proudly jutting up from a patch of dark hair between his legs.

He watches you, his cool, icy blue gaze boring into yours as he arouses himself, rubbing his own cock in long, slow pulls, teasing the foreskin up and over his head and smearing pre-come across the very tip of him.

You watch him, watching you, knowing he is excitedly scrutinising his son fucking you as you are forced to watch him tease himself. You aren’t sure if you can continue to watch. It is a tantalising sight, you have an urge to taste him, run your tongue over his expose skin, along the thick vein running the underside of that pink, perfect cock, but he is just frustratingly out of reach. 

Between your legs Connor is eliciting delicious friction as his hard cock rubs along your inner walls. The angle is deep and his thrusts sharp, the slapping of his body into yours echoing around the room.

Your back bows as your arms cannot support you, sliding you down further on the bed. You can no longer see Haytham and that is disappointing, but Connor’s heavy weight is pushing you into the mattress. He pulls himself from your body and you cry out in protest; you were so very close to the edge of another wonderful orgasm. He kisses your neck briefly before wrapping arms around your waist and lifting you bodily off the bed. Sliding easily and boneless across the bed he deposits you into Haytham’s eagerly waiting lap.

The front of your body rubs along the Grandmasters, his stiff cock trapped against your stomach, digging in slightly as he wraps his arms around you.

‘Since you think I am doing it wrong,’ Connor’s tone is more mocking than genuinely upset, they are playing with you, and it is unlikely either of their feeling are hurt. As he scoots from behind you, you see Haytham roll his eyes sarcastically, hands sliding along your back, lightly circling intricate patterns along your spin.

‘I have told him before, youth is no match for experience,’ He murmurs seductively in your ear. 

Connor makes a disparaging noise through his nose behind you. ‘I think the old man is afraid he can’t measure up.’

‘Less of the ‘old’ thank you, Connor.’

You giggle at their exchange. You should probably be slightly offended but considering their determined ‘one-up man ship’ of each other likely means an excessive amount of pleasure for you then you are willing to let it go.  
Haytham sardonically drawls, ‘how many times have I told you boy, it’s not the size of your sword but what you can do with it.’

You laugh as Connor makes a disgusted noise, Haytham winks conspiratorially in your direction. Giggling, you glance downwards; there is definitely nothing wrong with the size of his ‘sword’, nothing at all.

Haytham wraps hands around your hips easing you forwards towards him. Straddling his waist you sink down slowly onto his hard waiting cock, delighting in the new angle, the feeling, the different texture of skin. His hands guide you as you rock your hips above him. Leaning upwards, Haytham kisses along your neck, trailing down until he captures your right breast in his mouth. Teeth bite down gently, causing your back to arch; it only serves to push your chest further into his face. He takes your nipple between his teeth and tugs gently outwards. It is almost becoming painful, you are about to tell him to stop when he releases it, lapping soothingly with his tongue.

You delight in being gloriously full as his hard cock rubs against your inner walls, sending tendrils of pleasure up her spin. Haytham rolls your hips in his hands and you can’t help your head fall back in pleasure, closing your eyes, listening to the gentle moaning and elevated breathing from the man under you. He begins to buck his hips harder rocking you forwards forcing you to tighten your grip on his chest and dig your knees into the mattress to prevent falling over. You tried to help, using leg and thigh muscles to pull off him before slamming back down but he is frustratingly controlling the pace and movement.

His body stills under you, hips no longer bucking up in rhythm. The older Kenway tugs you forward until you overbalance on your knees and end up sprawled across his chest. You noticed his chest is rising and falling rapidly under you, he is definitely affected by this encounter. He kisses your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose before taking a hot, demanding kiss from your mouth. Haytham pulls away slightly, arms warping tightly around your upper body.

You suddenly feel trapped, pressed against the front of Haytham with his cock filling you, you can’t move, your arms are pinned by his at your sides. You look up into his face, a little uneasy and wonder what is going on.

His expression is soft and reassuring, ‘Shh shh shh,’ he whispers in your ear, ‘relax.’

You try to relax until you feel a brush of skin behind you. You had almost forgotten Connor, how could you have possibly forgotten the practical Greek god behind you? You wonder what he was doing while you were busy with Haytham, was he watching the pair of you? Enjoying the show as his father had earlier? 

Connor kneels behind you, between your and Haytham's legs. You feel the brush of his hardness against you and you stiffen. They weren’t planning to…

You tense and scream; Haytham smothers your cries with his mouth, distracting you from the new sensation. It is too much, far, far too much, having both of them inside you, completely filling you. It is an alien sensation, almost uncomfortable at first. You are definitely wet and aroused but they are both not small men and your pussy having to stretch to fit them. 

You whimper as Connor grabs your hips driving himself further into your body while simultaneously pulling you back towards him. Breaking away from Haytham’s mouth, you sink teeth into his shoulder; he shudders and sighs slightly, flexing his own hips. 

Before long they establish a rhythm, sliding in and out of your body with firm thrusts, Connor’s body rough and hot, Haytham controlled and practiced, Fire and Ice both of them.

Your body is loosening against the unusual sensation, becoming accustomed to their presence you can begin to move your hips slightly in time. You feel wonderfully, gloriously full as they seem to hit every sensitive spot inside your body. The pressure is building low in your abdomen again as the slick cocks push you into a further state of arousal.

Connors abruptly pulls away, just as you were so close and you let out a small grunt of disappointment. His fingers delicately rub the sensitive flesh of your arse and you tense wondering if he is planning on penetrating you there. His fingers trace cool wetness across your skin and you wonder what he has picked up as a lubricant and where on earth he had hidden it. 

His nail scrapes the entrance ever so slightly, a small gasp escapes you throat as he teases the ring of muscle. Connor deftly massages with the tip of his finger only sinking the wet digit into your arse when you can’t take any more and push back greedily onto him. The finger probes and massages along your insides, rubbing new and uncertain areas. A second digit soon follows the first, stretching you wider and forcing a whoosh of air from your lungs. His fingers scissor stretching you even wider, muscles protesting slightly against the invasion. 

Soon his fingers are gone from your body and you are not sure if you are happy with that or not, growing accustomed to the delicious sensations Haytham is producing in your pussy and the gently probing of Connor in your backside. 

A larger pressure is pushed against the opening and you tense, not quite ready for what he is planning. Connor is pushing against you and your tight body fights him. He pulls back, kissing your neck and shoulders, rubbing his hands along your sides, caressing your breasts, soothing you until you relax against him again.

He reluctantly pulls away monitoring to Haytham under you.

‘You better do it; you will be more...gentle than me.’

Haytham nods, shifting from underneath you. His cock slides from you as he eases you down onto the bed beside him. Wapping you in his arms, he spoons you, your back snug against his chest, fine hairs across his chest and stomach tickling your spine.

Connor reaches a hand down; whatever he massaged into you earlier is soon smeared across Haytham’s hard cock which is now glistening with wetness in the dim light. He slides himself against you, positing the tip of him where his son had previously. His hips flex forward, your breath hitches, voice completely cut off so that you cannot cry out at the foreign feeling. 

Haytham stills, allowing you to become familiarised to the foreign invasion. His hips ease forwards, slowly, inch by inch until he is fully sheathed inside you, the slickness and Connors fingers only just helping to ease the passage.

You squirm, it is a…odd sensation but you are quickly becoming accustomed to those this night. The Grandmasters body slides back and forward in slow, shallow thrusts, taking their time with you as he kisses the back of your head soothingly. He motions to Connor who manoeuvres himself down in front of you, eyes dark and eager.

It takes a slight jostling of positions and legs but Connor is soon pushed against the front of your body, Haytham behind, and you delight in the glorious feeling of being sandwiched between them, their attention all focused on you. Connor throws one of your legs across his hip, angling himself just so before swiftly entering your pussy.

You brain screeches at you, this is too much, too much pleasure, a complete sensory overload as your body is doubly filled, rocking back and forth between them in reckless abandon. Your body clamps shut around them, you think you may have literally saw stars as wetness flood you and you come silently, unable to even scream in pleasure as every muscle in your body had inadvertently tightened.

You feel boneless, completely weightless as you lie on your side on the soft bed. You don’t have any energy left, you can’t even wriggle to meet their thrusts as your sated and happy body melts into a puddle.

Behind you, you hear a soft grunt as Haytham stills his movements, hot come squirting into you bowel. He kisses your neck tenderly, hand caress your stomach as he holds you tight against his body. Connor ups his tempo, he is the last one to finish, hips bucking against you, lean legs thrusting hips into you in a furious pace. He is not far behind, muttering something in his native tongue as you can feel the wetness smear across your thighs.

A giddily euphoric laugh bubbles from your lips as you listen to the ragged breathing of both men, your whole body aching, but wonderfully so, from its abuse.

Haytham strokes your hip teasing the skin with the tip of his fingers, ‘To your satisfaction?’

You don’t even have words. There is no way you are forgetting this, you may not even recover. Connor leans over you, his kisses gentle. ‘We should get cleaned up, a bath perhaps?’

‘I don’t think I could walk,’ you murmur, already sleepy and exhausted and wanting to do nothing more than lie there wrapped in their hot, sweat soaked bodies.

‘Perhaps some sleep first,’ Haytham agrees from the other side of the bed.

‘I will carry you,’ Connor retorts, ‘if someone is too tired.’ He shoots a challenging look in Haytham's direction.

The older man sighs exasperatedly before rolling off the bed, not wishing to be out done. ‘Very well, round two in the bath, I think.’

Your mouth dries. Round…two? You aren’t sure you could survive such pleasure again.

Connor effortlessly scoops you up from the bed before you can protest. You think these two will be the death of you, but wouldn’t it be such a wonderful way to go?

 

~End


End file.
